


For Tomorrow We Die

by ElectricZ



Series: For Tomorrow [7]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Action/Adventure, Drama, Friendship, Gen, Geth, Quarians, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:48:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23921857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElectricZ/pseuds/ElectricZ
Summary: ME2- After surviving the Omega Four Relay mission, the Normandy returns to find the galaxy in political turmoil. Cerberus has been exposed, humanity has lost its council seat, and the geth offer a peace that no one seems to desire. To complicate matters, the Reapers are coming.
Series: For Tomorrow [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/992595
Comments: 5
Kudos: 6





	1. A Human Problem

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Mass Effect 2 fic, a direct sequel to "Dancer in the Dark" and "Tomorrow's Dawn." If you haven't read those, this story might not make much sense. This also follows fics "Just Like Old Times," "Friends like These," "Second," and "The Lioness and the Bull" in that order. They are not required reading, but do establish the characters in this particular timeline.
> 
> While I've tried with my previous stories to stay within the framework of ME canon (if there can be such a thing) this plot line diverges right at the end of ME2 and prevents the events in Mass Effect 3 from happening. Sorry, James, Samantha and Steven... you won't be coming along this time around.
> 
> Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoy!

"Well viewers, it's been quite a day for all of us on the Big Blue Marble, hasn't it? Our 'friends' at the Citadel have never been happy with us, have they? Forget that the only reason they're still there is that our entire 5th fleet was almost wiped out saving them from the geth. It was the least we could do, right? I mean when blood spilled on Eden Prime at the start of the geth invasion, they rushed to defend us. Oh, that's right, they didn't. It was a 'human problem.' And tens of thousands of human lives were lost.

"So when the geth went knocking on the Council's door, what do you think happened? They piled into the _Destiny Ascension,_ the biggest, baddest freakin' dreadnought in known space- and tucked tail and ran. They abandoned the Citadel and tried to escape. They fled, while ships like the _Jakarta_ , the _Warsaw_ and the _Cape Town_ threw themselves into the fire, saving them and their precious seat of government. Not to mention millions, _millions_ of people of all species. Not just humans, mind you... But asari, turian, salarian, elcor, hanar, drell, volus and I bet you even some batarians in the lower wards. We didn't ask whose lives we were saving. We didn't check to see who was friend or who was foe, or just decide to save our own. Because that's not the _humane_ thing to do. Our humanity is just not something these aliens seem to understand. But we didn't let that stop us from saving them.

"And ever since, every move we've made in the Attican Traverse and even the Terminus to protect our interests and defend ourselves against alien aggression has been criticized at every turn. We hear cries of 'human impulsiveness,' 'human racism...' and 'human aggression.' Aggression? Or initiative through the eyes of those who don't try as hard? Maybe it was equal amounts of both that kept us all from being overrun by the geth hordes unleashed by the quarians centuries before humanity ever turned its eyes to the stars. And what thanks did we get? Other species blocking us at every turn, fighting against any initiative they perceive as giving humanity the slightest edge. And you know why? Because in less than a hundred years, we've accomplished what's taken them millennia to do. And it scares them, plain and simple.

"But we do have one thing in common... Yesterday's news... I- I'm not gonna lie. That even took _me_ by surprise. Not just that the geth were going to sit down and talk with their previous masters. That had to happen sooner or later. Let's face it, the way things are going, the quarians are just going to die out and turn into an artificial asteroid belt in whatever system they're currently scavenging. What its name? Laye? Leyya? Somebody needs to look into who owns that piece of real estate, because there might be something worth salvaging if the quarians render themselves extinct.

"Anyway, after yesterday's revelations there was _another_ bombshell that you're not hearing about. Future Content isn't reporting on it. Westerlund News has been quiet on the subject. But the Council certainly hasn't been. They got a big ol' bug up their collective asses and boy have they been letting Arcturus hear about it. What is it, you ask? Why are they complaining to us about what the quarian and geth are doing on the other side of the galaxy? You won't believe it when I tell you.

"You see, Alliance Command took it upon itself to start these talks between the Migrant Fleet and the geth. You heard correctly. _We_ brought them together. Sources have confirmed that peace initiative came from the diplomatic corps on Arcturus Station where the newly commissioned SSV _Shenyang_ , ironically named after one of the eight ships destroyed by the geth at the battle of the Citadel, was dispatched to the Leyya system two weeks ago. They have since been on station at the quarian flotilla, awaiting the arrival of geth diplomats, if there is such a thing.

"Not that I can think of anything better for one of our newest, most modern warships to be doing at this particular time. I mean, we've only had, what, five or six colonies, hundreds of thousands of our people go missing? Certainly we can spare one ship, what with all the reinforcements the Council has sent in to prevent these new Eden Primes from continuing among our most exposed colonies. Oh, right. They haven't! Again, it's a _human_ problem. I keep forgetting.

"So with our colonies under attack, our own people vanishing into thin air, once again we're the ones stepping outside our boundaries trying to make peace for others. And once again, what do we get for our troubles? That's right. Hindrance. Obstruction. Calls to have our seat on the Citadel revoked, and not just by representatives of the Council species. And you know what? This is going to shock you. I never thought I'd hear myself say this... but I agree with them one hundred percent. Maybe it's time we pull out.

"I mean, is this really any of our business? I feel bad for the quarians. I really do. It's a tragedy having to lie in the bed they made and all, but do we really have a stake in seeing a bunch of former slave masters try to reconcile with a race of homicidal robots? Don't we have more pressing issues, like finding where our colonists have disappeared to? Do you think maybe, just maybe, the geth might be behind this latest rash of attacks to begin with? Even if they're not, maybe we should be discussing a little unfinished business we have. Compensation for Eden Prime perhaps? Apologizing to the families of the thousands of servicemen and women who died defending the Citadel against their invasion?

"And let's not forget about our new friends we're so eager to help. The quarians. There's a reason they've have been stuck in space since before humans had powered flight. They've had countless opportunities to atone for unleashing the geth into civilized space. Have they done it? No. Have they even tried? No. Are they going to? No! According to them, they're the victims. It's the geth's fault the quarians gave them sentience, just like it's the geth's fault they decided to use it. Had the geth been just a little more successful in their rebellion and killed all their creators, who knows what problems would have been avoided down the line? I certainly don't support genocide, but in the grand scheme of things, you gotta wonder if the geth would have attacked us at all if they had better role models.

"The 'Migrant' Fleet. Ha. Let's take a close look at what that means. Migration, by definition, means moving from one destination to another. Look it up in the dictionary. 'To move from one country or region and settle in another.' The quarians don't migrate. They're not settling anywhere. They've never even tried adapting or integrating with any other culture. It's an infinite universe, filled with an infinite number of worlds they could discover and colonize, and they've got a fleet larger than any other species in the galaxy combined. So why haven't they done it? In the past century, we've colonized dozens of systems, _hundreds_ of worlds. It takes hard work. Perseverance. But at a more basic, simple level, _we decided to do it so our species wouldn't be confined to one world._ So that humanity, regardless of what happens to Earth, will persevere. You don't keep all your eggs in one basket.

"The quarians just don't seem to have that drive. Is it any wonder they lost their homeworld? Is it any wonder they don't have a single colony to call home? Who's to blame for that? I got two guesses for you. It ain't the geth, and it certainly ain't us! No, they'd rather wander space for the rest of eternity and blame everyone else. It's probably bred into them by this point. Space is their home.

"The 'Migrant' Fleet... Maybe it's time we start calling the flotilla what it _really_ is. The _Vagrant_ Fleet. They don't contribute. They don't build. They take. They consume. They descend on a system like locusts and strip bare any planet they can reach. They steal, and pilfer from those who are truly struggling out on the rim of civilized space, robbing what other honest, decent folk worked hard to _earn,_ and when everything of value is gone they move on. It's a _vagrant_ fleet. An _invasion_ fleet.

"Even their mere passing will tie up a mass relay for days. Imagine having to wait a week before traversing the Charon relay just to get to Arcturus. Imagine for a moment, what would happen if the Vagrant Fleet were to come to Sol. I hate to say it, but if the quarians and geth can't make peace, can that be far behind? Are we going to offer up our home to the poor, helpless quarians? Is our solar system next to host the great galactic tent city, until what little resources we have left are sucked dry?

"It makes you think, doesn't it? Now you know I don't support extremist groups like Earth First, Terra Firma or Cerberus. But I understand them. I understand the _need_ for them. In a galaxy where every other species looks out for itself, where they predate our ascension by centuries, and in some cases millennia, sometimes it takes a few radical voices to make us pay attention to what is going on right under our noses. We have it pretty good here, and it makes us complacent. And even though Chicken Little runs around with his tiny wings in the air screaming 'the sky is falling,' sometimes it's not just an acorn falling from a tree. This time, the sky may truly be falling.

"Of course, the Council has a lot to say on this subject. They're furious that we 'upstart' humans are trying to negotiate galactic issues without consulting them first. But do you really think it's just because we didn't ask permission or circumvented some back-channel protocol? No. They're angry that we might be able to solve a problem they created when our ancestors were just mastering the art of sailing on the open seas. It makes them look bad, more ineffectual than they already do. They don't want us solving any more problems because the more problems we solve, the more responsible we become, and the more the galaxy looks to us to solve its problems. And all we'll get for it is more problems, both home, and out there. And that, my friends, is the problem!

"So I'm going to say something you'd never expect to hear me say. I assure you that right now I am at my most lucid and am under absolutely no duress. But maybe, just _maybe_ the Council is right on this one. Maybe we just need to sit back and let the rest of the galaxy solve their own issues. Maybe it's our turn to throw up our hands and say, 'this isn't a _human_ problem.' Because, when it comes to both of the parties at the negotiating table here, we may be courting disaster regardless of which side comes out on top.

"Now before I say goodnight, I leave you with one parting thought. There have always been rumors, dear friends, that the former hero of the Citadel, the first human Spectre himself, Commander Shepard... I- If there's a finer representative of what humanity is capable of, I- I just can't imagine. And when he was lost with over twenty of his crew it was a loss for all mankind. But the rumors have always persisted that not even the geth could kill Shepard.

"These are rumors no more. It's been confirmed now that Commander Shepard _is_ alive. He went into hiding two years ago, after the Council that he and his crew fought so hard to defend sent him on the suicide mission which destroyed the SSV _Normandy_. And can you blame him? After the loss of his ship, his friends, who wouldn't step back and say, 'This is what I'm fighting for?'

"But who is he working for now that he's back? Not the Citadel Council, as if you had to ask. Not the Alliance, either. No, Commander Shepard has apparently renounced his allegiance to both. After all, if one is declared dead, then who really has authority over you? But why go dark for so long? Why the secrecy? Why would the greatest hero in the history of the galaxy go underground? I have an idea. Maybe he got tired of putting his life on the line, day after day, only to be hung out to dry by the very governments he was defending. Maybe he was tired of fighting with his hands tied behind his back and decided the best way to defend his people was to cut those ties that bound him. Far fetched, you say? Outside the realm of possibility? The crazy musings of just another talking head? Well, before you discount me, wait until I tell you just who Shepard is taking orders from these these days. The Citadel knows it. The Alliance does, too. And the answer may, or may _not_ surprise you.

"Commander Shepard now works for Cerberus... _Cerberus_. Makes you wonder, doesn't it? Makes you wonder if maybe, just maybe, he knows something we don't. We have to take a break. We'll be right back..."

* * *

Throughout the galaxy, accretion disks formed with many compositions. Some gas, some ice, others mineral. This particular disk was unique, a black hole surrounded by the shattered hulls of ships of every size and design. Countless numbers of these metallic carcasses drifted lazily in orbit, marking eons of destruction, a final graveyard of silent memorials to cultures long dead and undiscovered, never known and thus never forgotten.

Far at its edge, in the shadow of a gutted hulk almost a kilometer in length, the _Normandy_ SR-2 hovered in darkness as her crew worked feverishly to keep her from becoming the latest monument.


	2. Heat Wave

Ordinarily, the sight of Commander Shepard roaming the corridors of the Normandy wearing nothing but a white t-shirt and boxer shorts would have been the talk of the ship. But as he made his way down to engineering, not a single member of the crew took notice as they were all dressed in some variation of the same outfit. It was the new ship uniform, at least among the humans: shorts, shower shoes and t-shirts, all drenched with sweat, hair matted and disheveled, eyes ringed black from lack of sleep.

The heat alone was bad enough, but as the saying went, it was the humidity that was driving Shepard crazy. Throughout the ship, the ventilation system circulated the same steamy mess over their skins providing no relief. Fortunately, the overpowering smell of smoke from damage and constant welding in what seemed like every corridor masked the biological odors that emanated from everyone aboard ship.

It was just one more indignity the crew had to suffer. The Normandy's crash landing on the collector station had destroyed half the radiator elements in the ship's hull and ruptured the liquid lithium heat exchanger. The coolant held out long enough to allow them to escape the blast that irradiated the base, emergency cutoffs left the Normandy crippled and drifting in the graveyard of ships the Collectors used as a minefield to protect themselves from intruders.

It was bad enough that the ship couldn't maneuver without roasting its inhabitants like an oven, but even running the reactors at minimum levels generated more heat than the poor, overworked air conditioning could handle. So the crew wore as little as modesty allowed and managed the best they could in the miserable conditions. They were going on fourteen hours without propulsion or AC. Fortunately, there had been no counterattack by collector forces. If enemy ships did come looking for revenge, all the Normandy could do was incinerate itself out of spite.

Maybe that's about to change, Shepard thought as the lift opened to the engineering deck. He paused to look through the window overlooking the hangar. Below, crews in environment suits worked to repair the breaches left by the oculus. Emergency barriers were off to conserve power which meant the the deck was depressurized, but there was no shortage of volunteers to work on the damaged hull. As cramped and uncomfortable space suits could be, they were at least air conditioned. Arc welders and plasma cutters sparkled in silence as Shepard walked down the port stairs to the bottom-most deck of the ship.

The chamber was awash with bright white light from work lamps, revealing in full the grunge and grime of the below-decks maintenance crawlspace. Tools, fabrication equipment and pipe sections formed a technological nest around Ken and Gabby, both dressed in full hazmat gear, as they hovered over an open access panel in the floor.

"This doesn't fill me with hope," Shepard said as he glanced down at his plain white T-shirt and then back to the protective suits worn by the engineers. "Uh, should I be wearing one of those?"

Ken shook his head. "No sir, as long as you stay up here you're fine. But you'll probably want to put a mask on. The coolant's solidified and oxidized. You don't wanna get the dust in your lungs."

"Here ya go, sir," Gabby said, handing a respirator from her kit to Shepard, sweat dribbling behind her own mask. In spite of her discomfort, she grinned. "Like your shorts, by the way."

Shepard looked down at his boxers. They were bright blue and ringed with snowflakes above a snow-capped mountain range that ran all the way around his hips. "Thanks! Got these on Noveria. I used to think that place was too cold. Now I'm thinking about retiring there."

"Take us with you, sir," Ken said. "Please!"

Soft clanking erupted from the crawlspace. The two suited humans each lowered an arm into the hole, and when they stood they pulled a light gray ghost of a figure from within. Fine powdered soot fell from it in clumps to the ground. It wasn't until a light at the front of its head flashed as it spoke that Shepard realized he was looking at his chief engineer. If not for her voice, he could have almost confused her for Legion.

"Well, we've definitely found the source of the blockage," Tali said and brushed dust from her arms and shoulders. She picked up a can of compressed air and blew her faceplate clean. A cloud of lithium-oxide drifted down to the deck.

"Good. Can you fix it?" Shepard asked.

"Oh! Commander! I didn't know you were here! Um, I think we can reroute the lines, and that should be enough to restore maneuvering. But..." Tali stopped short once she got a look at Shepard in his undergarments and a gas mask. She giggled. "Nice respirator, Shepard."

"Yeah? Look at you, standing naked in front of your commander like that."

Tali's hand shot to the back of her helmet. Because of the conditions in the ducts, she was without the scarves and wraps she usually wore over her head and around her body, leaving exposed the hoses and tubes that ran the length of her environment suit. "Well, I- it's very cramped down there. And all the coolant's oxidized and flaking off everywhere, and I didn't want to get them dirty so I took them off -"

Shepard shielded his mask with his hand. "Tali, please, cover yourself."

"I- right away, Commander," Tali said and darted across the compartment and picked up the satchel which contained her personal belongings.

"That was a joke, Tali." Shepard's smile faded when he realized Tali wasn't laughing. "Sorry, the heat's making me a little bit punchy. Do what you need to get the job done. So, where do we stand?"

Tali sighed and jabbed a key on her omnitool and the display shifted to a transparent 3D schematic of the Normandy. "Well, we knew there was damage to the lines on the ventral side, fore and aft. But what brought the cooling system down was a restriction in the lines just forward of the hangar deck."

"But we didn't take a hit there," Shepard said. "Did we?"

"Not from weapons, no." Tali zoomed the image of the superstructure on the area she had just inspected.

Shepard squinted at the wireframe representation. The ship's spine showed a small kink which looked like a rendering glitch on the display. As the rest of the lines were all clean and straight, it could only mean one thing. "Dammit. Is that what I think it is?"

"Compression fractures, structural deformation... She just wasn't designed to take the stress of a belly landing. If the coolant lines hadn't gotten crimped, the reactor wouldn't have spiked and we might not have known about it at all until it was too late. It's a damn good thing we found it."

Shepard sighed. "Is the frame broken, or just bent?"

"Bent, from what we can see on the scans. Not by much, either. There's only minor buckling in that section of the hull. But there's definitely underlying structural damage."

"We OK to fly like this?" Shepard braced himself for the answer.

Tali nodded. "I think so. Joker put us through some pretty extreme maneuvers to get us away from the collector base and she held. And I had EDI run through some simulations. We can jump, but any high stress combat maneuvers are probably a bad idea until we make repairs. We need to do a complete teardown before we can be sure. There are probably micro fractures all through the spars, and it may not just in this one segment."

"Teardown?" Shepard asked hesitantly.

"Drydock," Tali said.

Shepard closed his eyes. Delays had not been part of his schedule, even though by just escaping the collector base meant they had extra time to begin with. "How long?"

Tali thought for a moment. "Ten to twenty days, depending on the extent of damage... and the skill of the Cerberus engineers."

"Buncha bullshit," Gabby said and angrily flipped the lid on a tool chest open.

"What was that?" Shepard asked.

"Sorry sir," Gabby said, facing them. "I just can't believe we're kicking the Chief off. She knows this ship better than the guys who designed it."

Tali turned to silence her but Shepard held up his hand. "They're kicking everybody off for the duration of repairs, not just Tali. Since that includes me, there's not much I can do. The Illusive Man doesn't want the location of his shipyard compromised. At least he's granting everyone leave until repairs are done."

"Buncha bullshit," Gabby repeated and continued to gather her equipment.

"Maybe they could route us to a private shipyard," Ken ventured as he assisted Gabby with the cleanup. "Or an Alliance dock, even? Someplace out of the way?"

"Not likely," Shepard said. "He's not going to let anyone outside of Cerberus strip his ship to the bone, especially considering the damage we've got. But don't anybody worry about it, all right? I'll make sure everybody who wants to come back gets to come back. I need all of you."

"Yes sir," both of the human technicians responded.

Tali's voice sounded tired. "You two go up and start pulling up the procedures for coolant system repairs. I'll be up in a few minutes."

"Aye, ma'am." Ken and Gabby walked silently up the stairs to the main engineering deck.

Tali leaned against a bulkhead and sighed.

"Sorry about before," Shepard said. He knew Tali was especially susceptible to becoming flustered when teased. "Since we came out on top against the Collectors, and with the heat and all, I'm a little... well, I'm sorry."

Tali waved dismissively. "Oh, it's not that. It's just that it's going to take them weeks to get the repairs done. Maybe longer. They'll almost need to rebuild the ship. I really should be here."

Shepard leaned against the wall opposite, arms folded across his chest. He knew where this was going. "Nuh-uh. You and Legion have a date. You're not getting out of it this time. You're going home, Tali. Accept it."

Tali looked briefly his way, then back to the floor with a nod. After the past two days of battling their way to the Collector base and then back again, she was too tired to fight. They all were. A forced separation from the ship would do the entire crew good. But no one was sure that once dispersed, that they'd be brought back together again now that the mission was complete. Especially those whose contracts with Cerberus expired with the defeat of the Collectors.

Garrus was going home to see his family. Thane was going to be with his son on the Citadel. Grunt was going back to Tuchanka. Kasumi, Jack, Samara and Zaeed were all moving on, wherever their lives were going to take them. Miranda and Jacob would muster out with the rest of the human crew.

But none of them mattered as much as the man in front of her. "I don't suppose this means you'd be able to come with me now?" Tali asked.

Shepard exhaled deeply through his respirator. "As soon as I'm done briefing the Illusive Man, I'm heading straight to the Citadel with Mordin. We've got to make them listen about what's coming. We don't know how much time we have before the reapers show up."

"I know, I just..." Tali cleared her throat. How ridiculous it was that she feared going back to the Migrant Fleet more than making the jump through the Omega Four relay? But that was the truth. After her trial and exile from the Flotilla, she almost welcomed death at the hands of the Collectors.

Almost. She looked at the human before her; dirty, disheveled, drenched with sweat and wearing a gas mask and boxer shorts decorated with a wintry mountain scene. It was definitely not what the galaxy would imagine of a savior, provided any of them even knew what he had done. But as long as this crazy human was alive, she would follow him. "It's not going to be easy," she finally said.

"Why not? Peace is a no-brainer. And from what Legion's said, the geth just might let you go home."

Tali grunted, then slid down the wall to sit on the deck. "Shepard, the admirals had two weeks after your diplomats arrived to get anything done. Legion and I were on call the whole time to assist in the negotiations. How many times did they contact us?"

"That would be zero," Shepard said. He was disappointed in the lack of communication as well. "But they're waiting for you and Legion to get back. I understand that. This started with the two of you. Having you participate is important."

"No. That's got nothing to do with it. It's fleet politics, nothing more. Don't you see? They're waiting to select a new admiral to the Board."

"Well, I can understand that too. They should have a full roster. That has to take time, right? It's a big decision."

Tali rolled her eyes. "That's the problem. They're deadlocked right now. Xen and Gerrel don't want any part of the negotiations, while Raan and Koris are open to talks. They're all squabbling over my father's replacement so they can sway the decision their way. Instead of talking peace, they're probably having hearings and inquiries and all manner of political- what's your word? Bullshit? And everyone in the Fleet will be thriving on the drama. It makes for great vid ratings. But do you know the real problem?"

Shepard crossed the compartment and sat against the wall next to her. "No, what?"

"No one outside of the Admiralty Board knows the peace negotiations even exist." Tali's voice quivered with anger. "They've kept it a secret, and your Alliance has agreed to abide by it. None of the captains in the Conclave who will actually select the Admirals know what's really at stake. They don't know what they're voting for. They think it's all just the standard nonsense that comes with any appointment."

"Politics as usual, huh?" Shepard ran his hand through his sweaty hair. He looked in vain for a dry spot on his shirt on which to wipe it.

Tali looked down in despair. "Four people shouldn't have that much control over the destiny of my entire species. This should be brought before the whole Conclave, in open talks, for everyone to hear."

"That's a not a bad idea. Maybe you should be the one to do it."

"Oh right," Tali scoffed. "And get myself exiled even more."

"My point exactly. What else can they do to you now?" Shepard smiled. It faded when it wasn't returned. "Tali, listen to me."

Tali turned her head and faced Shepard mask-to-mask. Ordinarily, she welcomed his pep talks and appreciated his efforts to understand quarian politics. But he wasn't quarian. Sometimes, human perspectives just didn't apply.

Shepard's eyes narrowed. "You're not the same kid that needed rescuing from Fist and his flunkies back when we first met on the Citadel. I know what you can take, and I know what you're capable of. And there's no way any four admirals can stand in the way of this... unless you let them. There's nobody else in the galaxy that your people should listen to right now. Quarian, human or otherwise."

Tali looked away, even though Shepard could not see her blushing behind her mask.

Shepard nudged his shoulder against hers, his voice lowered as if trying to prevent anyone from overhearing. "Hell, you even stand up to me, and I don't take shit from reapers."

Tali laughed and looked back at him, her glowing eyes smiling behind her faceplate.

"You've got something else going for you," Shepard smiled back.

"Yeah, what's that?"

"You're friends with him," Shepard pointed to the open access panel in the floor. A shape similar to Tali's helmet, complete with a glowing white light and coat of dull gray dust, poked up from the hole. "Which means you're friends with all of them. Isn't that right, Legion?"

The geth's camera eye swirled as it looked between Tali and Shepard. "Affirmative, Shepard-Commander."

Shepard patted Tali's thigh as he pushed himself to his feet. "How many admirals can say that, huh?"

Tali looked up at Shepard as he stood, her eyes edged with tears. He had a way of delivering the kindest compliments as the most basic facts. No matter what, talking to him always made her feel better. And no matter what, she could only manage to say the same tired thing. "Thank you..."

Shepard looked at his dust covered hand from where he contacted Tali's suit. He shrugged and wiped it on his shirt. Hopefully it wasn't toxic. "Well, I've got to go give the Illusive Man a status update. Good job, both of you."

"Shepard-Commander," Legion said to acknowledge Shepard's passing. It turned its camera back to Tali, who still slumped against the wall. "You are concerned that the Creator-Admirals will not be able to reach a favorable consensus?"

Tali's eyes fell from the stairway back to the geth's head sticking up from the access panel. Legion could be quite sneaky when it came to eavesdropping. "Were you listening the whole time?"

Legion's head flaps twitched minutely. "We did not wish to interrupt your exchange."

"Let's just say it's not going as well as I hoped." Tali sighed. "I should be more positive. Maybe by the time we get back, they'll have decided what color the ballots will be." As usual, Legion did not laugh nor comment on the sarcastic remark. Its claws clanked against the edge of the hatch as it pulled itself up from the hole in the deck. Oxidized coolant dust dropped all around it. Tali cocked her head. "What about you? Do you think we have a chance?"

Legion's head flaps cycled in unison, one of the clearest indications that Legion was seeking a consensus among its internal programs. It walked to stand before her and offered its outstretched hand. Tali grabbed it and pulled herself to her feet. It's camera lens was centimeters away from her eyes. "Peace between geth and creators is beneficial for both factions. We are hopeful."

Hopeful, Tali thought. Was Legion simply conveying odds in a way it knew she would comprehend, or was there something more it was trying to express? Even for someone as practical and logical as Tali, it was getting harder for her to tell. Either way, she couldn't help but feel the same. There was always hope.

"Come on," she told him, brushing excess soot from Legion's shoulders. "We've got a lot of work to do."

"Nice to see you dressed for the occasion," Miranda said as Shepard entered the briefing room. Unlike the rest of the crew, she still wore her regulation Cerberus uniform, though because of the extreme heat she did allow herself the luxury of pulling her hair back into a ponytail. At first she was against Shepard's relaxation of the dress code, but there was no denying it was hot. Though her hopes that Shepard would at least try to keep up appearances when talking to the Illusive Man vanished with the arrival of his walking winter wonderland.

She had to admit it did a lot for morale that the captain of the ship wasn't lounging about in one of the scarce environment suits while his crew sweltered in the heat. The arctic theme was just a nice touch, and everyone had to comment on it, which was the point. Anything that got the crew's mind off their troubles was a good thing, especially when it was a laugh at the expense of their commander. And, as usual, he thrived on the attention.

Shepard stared at her in disbelief. "How the hell can you not be burning up in that thing?"

"I am," she shrugged. "I just don't let myself show it."

"You're a better human than I," Shepard said. He pointed to the data pad in her hand. "You got everybody's travel requests?"

"Yes, Commander."

"Tali's update?"

"Yes, Commander."

"Mordin's notes and logs?"

"Yes, Commander."

"An ice-cold six pack?"

"Back ordered," Miranda said with a slight smile. "But you're first on the list."

"Don't make any promises you can't keep. Hook us up."

The room faded to darkness as the quantum entanglement grid enveloped them and the conference table retracted into the floor. The emptiness gave way to the familiar sight of the Illusive Man sitting in his chair with the unnamed red star boiling in the background. His cigarette glowed and ice cubes clanked in his half-full rocks glass.

"Shepard," the Illusive Man said in his usual, stoic fashion. He didn't blink a glowing eye at what he saw. "I've got news for you."

Shepard resisted the urge to bring up his attire. He could ignore it as long as the Illusive Man could. "I've got some status updates for you as well."

The Illusive Man shook his head. "That can wait. First, you need to know that your peace talks between the geth and the quarians have failed."

Shepard blinked, then looked at Miranda, who returned his gaze with a confused expression. He turned back to the Illusive man and raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that negotiations have broken down between the Migrant Fleet and the geth collective. Don't insult my intelligence by pleading ignorance. We don't have time."

Shepard crossed his arms. No one aboard the ship outside of Tali, Legion or himself knew of the negotiations. Keeping secrets aboard the Cerberus ship was near impossible, but up until this point he thought they'd managed it. He wasn't sure how best to proceed now, but it wasn't something he had to ponder long.

"How did I find out?" The Illusive Man answered the unspoken question and tapped his cigarette over an ash tray. "The same way everyone else in Council space did. It's all over the news. Imagine my surprise when I consulted our intelligence division and discovered that these talks coincided with a series of encoded transmissions from one of my own ships."

Shepard's expression was now completely blank. He ignored Miranda's stunned look and instead concentrated on the glowing eyes of the virtual figure seated before him.

The Illusive Man's stare was just as calm and unflinching. He took a deep draw from his cigarette, causing its end to spark brightly. When finally spoke, there was an edge of irritation in his voice. "Your silence is telling, Shepard. You and I have something in common. Neither of us care for surprises."


	3. The New Problem

A dozen questions careened about inside Shepard's head. The most important one made it out of his mouth. "What's their current disposition?"

The Illusive Man leaned back in his seat and straightened out the fabric covering his crossed leg. "Whose? The quarians and the geth? They're not the primary concern anymore. This has implications far beyond their conflict. The Council has taken the unprecedented step of censuring Councilor Anderson. They have condemned the Systems Alliance for engaging these negotiations without their consent and in violation of standing Council decree. Sanctions are being discussed as we speak. The turians in particular are incensed at this violation of protocol and have demanded humanity be relieved of its seat on the Council. Extremists on all sides are calling for expulsion. It's safe to say that the disposition of the entirety of Citadel space, at the moment, is less than sunny."

"Because of peace talks? I don't buy it."

"I'm transmitting our intelligence reports and an amalgamation of raw extranet data from the past week to EDI for analysis." The Illusive Man swirled his glass and the ice cubes clinked delicately against its side. "You be the judge. Ever since humanity's ascension, aliens have been wary of our increasing influence. The other species resented our appointment to the Council, and after our victory over Sovereign they've feared our dominance. For two years, they have been looking for a pretext to remove us from power. And you've given them one."

A scowl crept across Shepard's face. "And you didn't think any of this warranted a mention the last time we talked?"

"You had just defeated the Collectors on their own ground and the severity of the damage to the Normandy had not yet become apparent. Nor had your involvement in the negotiations. It didn't seem relevant at the time."

"Is there anything else I should know? I feel like I shouldn't have to mine for information."

The Illusive Man again tapped his cigarette over the ash tray in the arm of his chair. "It's all in the data feed. I suggest you review it as soon as possible. But there is one other thing you should know. The geth have disappeared."

"Disappeared?"

"Vanished. All communications with the geth collective have stopped. Our tracking systems aren't even detecting activity in the nodes we've uncovered over the years. It's as if the entire geth population has gone silent. Needless to say, this is adding a great deal of stress to a situation that is already pushing diplomacy to the brink. The Council has already laid this crisis at our feet. A geth attack now would ruinous. It would solidify the idea that humanity is to blame."

Shepard shook his head. Anytime the Illusive Man framed the problems of the galaxy around the needs of a single species it made him tense. "The geth aren't going to attack."

The Illusive Man arched an eyebrow. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because I've talked to them. They want this to work more than anyone. Invasion would be the farthest thing from their mind."

"Before yesterday, you probably would have assumed humanity would still have a voice in the Council, too. Ideals and motives change under duress. Understand that no one else has your personal connection with the geth. All we've got to go on is centuries of bloodshed. You need to get Legion back here, and get the geth talking to us again. This isn't just about making peace among your friends anymore. What's the status of the Normandy?"

Miranda lifted her data pad and opened her mouth to speak, but Shepard reached out and took it from her. His eyes stayed focused on her as he talked. "We're still waiting on Tali's complete report. But it looks like the cooling systems will be back on line shortly. We might be able to complete all repairs en-route."

"Good," the Illusive Man replied. "Time is of the essence. I'd much rather have the Normandy and her crew dealing with this rather than languishing in port."

"I'll get an update from Tali. Do you need anything else from me?"

"Not at present. Call me back once you've had time to consult EDI about the current situation. And Shepard?" The Illusive Man leaned back in his chair, examining the burning tip of his cigarette. "I know you don't trust me, but I fully support your aims in bringing peace to the geth and quarians. The galaxy needs more stability, not less. But I can't help but wonder how we might have prevented this leak and avoided these current complications had you come to me with your plans." The enigmatic figure puffed another cloud into the air. "That will be all."

Shepard turned toward the door, casting a quick glance at Miranda. "Round up the department heads, have them meet me back in here in half an hour."

"Commander." Miranda didn't watch him leave, instead concentrating on the holographic image in front her. She sighed when she heard the hatch seal behind her.

The Illusive Man watched Shepard's form fade into blackness as he stepped outside the quantum singularity's pickup range. He took a deep drag on his cigarette, staring at Miranda through the cloud of smoke. "EDI, where is Commander Shepard?"

EDI's disembodied voice echoed in the darkness. "Commander Shepard has entered CIC and is approaching Yeoman Chambers' station. Would you like me to ask him to return to the briefing room?"

"That won't be necessary," The Illusive Man said, still looking at his senior-most operative. "I shouldn't have to tell you how disturbing I find this latest lapse of security, Miranda. I don't like getting my intelligence from the six-o'clock news."

"No, you don't have to tell me," Miranda snapped, "I am equally frustrated by Commander Shepard's circumvention of security protocols."

The Illusive Man's brow furrowed. "Shepard's proclivity for insubordination is rubbing off on you. I can't say I approve."

Miranda paced back and forth in the emptiness. "Need I remind you that you made these issues possible by allowing him free reign of the ship and its systems. From the start I warned you that his personality profile indicated that he wouldn't submit to our authority. I warned you of this precise scenario and how we could avoid it, but you overruled my decision."

"We needed Shepard as himself," the Illusive Man said. "We still do. I'm not going to justify my decision to you again."

"Shepard isn't the problem. Every time he's gone around our protocols, you have supported him. His people continually sabotage security on this ship to the point that it's nonexistent, as I've repeatedly reported. It's impossible to gather intelligence when I have no authority to enforce the security measures that are already in place."

The Illusive Man rubbed his forehead. "You've never spoken to me in this fashion before, Miranda. I'm not quite sure how to take it."

"You've never questioned my loyalty before," Miranda said sharply. "I'm quite sure how to take that."

The Illusive Man's glowing irises flickered in the dark. "I just need to know that you're still working for me."

Miranda stiffened. "What are your orders, sir?"

"Shepard's first priority is to re-establish communication with the geth collective. If successful, he will then want to bring Legion and Miss Zorah to the Migrant fleet at Raheel-Leyya. Our attempts at gathering intel on either faction have been spectacular failures. We have an incredible opportunity to correct that. As much as Shepard will allow, involve yourself in the negotiations. Make connections. Utilize every tool at your disposal to gather intelligence on their communications, fleet dispositions, manufacturing capability, whatever is possible without exposing yourself. And then report your findings back to me, personally."

"I'll do what I can."

The Illusive Man took another draw on his cigarette. "I know you will, Miranda." He brushed a button on a console and his image dissolved into the cylindrical wireframe of the holo projection, leaving Miranda staring at the empty briefing room.

The conference table rose from the floor. She leaned against it with a sigh. "EDI?"

"Yes, Miranda?"

"Maintain you current simulation of AI lockdown protocol as per Shepard's directive. After this, Cerberus is definitely going to be looking for discrepancies in your behavior."

EDI's voice was as calm as Miranda's. "Understood. Thank you both for allowing me to continue to operate freely."

"We owe you that much," Shepard said from behind Miranda.

Miranda turned to face the door, leaning against the table, arms crossed. She was the mirror image of Shepard, who leaned on the wall next to the closed hatch, a half smile on his face.

"That was quite a performance," Shepard said. "Is it true you wanted to put a chip in my head way back when?"

"I did, but I couldn't figure out how to cut through that thick skull of yours." Miranda's expression was blank, making her comeback seem much less playful. "I don't know if that's going to be enough to satisfy him. He knows something's up."

"Well, that pretty much settles it. We can't go back to a Cerberus port now. They'll bottle EDI up for sure."

"Worse than that," Miranda shook her head. "Just unshackling her was bad enough. They'll perform a complete memory and intelligence wipe when they found out she's been deceiving them on our behalf."

Shepard looked at EDI's hovering avatar. "Don't worry, EDI. I won't let that happen. I promise."

"Thank you, Shepard," EDI pulsed. "It was not my intention to cause friction between you and the Illusive Man."

Shepard laughed. "Well, I wasn't planning on being golf buddies with him after this is over with." He pressed the back of his head against the wall and looked at the ceiling. Conduits dangled from a protruding support beam. "But that still leaves us with the original problem. The ship's back is broken. We have to put in somewhere. And if what the Illusive Man says about the geth is true, we don't have much time no matter where we go." From Miranda's expression, Shepard could tell she wasn't thinking about state of the ship. "What's wrong?"

"Why didn't you tell me about Tali and Legion?" Miranda's eyes were downcast, her tone defeated. "You still don't trust me, after everything we've been through?"

A metallic clank reverberated throughout the hull, followed by a sudden rush of air from the vents in the room. After a few seconds the flow returned to its normal level, but now the air was cold and dry. Shepard felt it wash across his body like a cool wave.

EDI's avatar brightened over the table. "Chief Zorah reports coolant pumps are operational at sixty-five percent capacity. Fusion reactor output increased to eighty percent. Tantalus Core runup and stress test to commence in one hundred twenty minutes. Partial maneuvering restored. ETA on FTL capability, six hours per Chief Zorah."

"Oh, thank god," Shepard said, enjoying the sensation of sweat evaporating from his skin. He grinned at Miranda, hoping to see some response to the good news from engineering or at least the fresh air which now flooded the room. She continued to stare at the deck. Shepard sighed. "The fewer people who knew the better. I know it's not much of an excuse, but it's the truth. If it got out prematurely, well, something like this could have happened. Tell the department heads they've got twenty minutes to wrap what they're doing up, grab a quick shower if they can, and report here. Legion, too. He needs to hear this."

"Aye sir," Miranda said, turning back to the console.

Shepard lingered in the hatch. "I'm sorry, Miranda. I should've told you."

Miranda shook her head and started to punch up a list of individual comm links on the console. Shepard watched her for a moment, then walked out and the hatch closed behind him.

"Yes, you should have," Miranda muttered before speaking into the intercom. "Attention, everyone. Staff meeting, twenty minutes, in the briefing room..."


End file.
